


In His Own Likeness

by Lintoro



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Graphic Description of Corpses, M/M, Miscommunication, Pre-Slash, Pre-Thor (2011), Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-30 01:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19031686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lintoro/pseuds/Lintoro
Summary: One day long ago, when they were still growing up, Loki showed Thor two illusions and asked him to choose which one he liked better.Apparently, Thor chose poorly.





	In His Own Likeness

"I don't know much about magic."  
  
"I'm well aware. I'm not asking for an expert's verdict."  
  
Thor sighed and took a seat on the nearest chair. He had come to see if his brother would go exploring the wilderness of Asgard with him, not to witness a private magic show, but it would take less time to see whatever Loki wanted him to see than to persuade him with words.  
  
Loki stood up, his eyes flitting across his notes one final time before he straightened his back. He was growing so fast Thor joked he was gaining an inch a day, all the while hoping he never outgrew him. "I have two new spells."  
  
"Illusions?"  
  
"Naturally."  
  
Thor leaned against the backrest and folded his arms. "What kind of comments do you want? I already told you I don't know much."  
  
"All I ask is you tell me which one you prefer, along with anything else that comes to mind."  
  
Thor nodded. "I can do that."  
  
Loki smiled, then raised his hands. His expression, as usual, changed as he began to weave the illusion. Thor loved that expression. It was one of concentration, but more important was the barely contained joy just beneath it. When younger, Thor had often wondered why Loki had chosen the path of sorcery, but seeing his love for the craft well answered the question.  
  
As he thought this, both Loki and the room around him faded out. He allowed himself to be immersed in the illusion. Soon enough, he found himself and his chair in the middle of a plain, with unfamiliar mountains in the distance and the horizon alight with flames.  
  
It was the site of a battle, and a bloody one at that. Corpses littered the ground — elven based on their silvery armour, mingling with the smouldering remains of fire giants — floating in a sea of gore and mangled flesh. A few survivors staggered silhouette-like against the scene, leaning against their broken weapons for support and calling feebly for the names of their comrades.  
  
Against his will, Thor stared at the glistening entrails ripped loose from the bodies surrounding him till his eyes focused on the face of the fallen warrior close to his feet. The warrior's visor had been crushed by a tremendous blow, revealing a countenance blanched by death and black eyes staring at nothing with an expression more surprised than pained.  
  
There was movement against the red sky, closer than any of the battle-worn warriors had come till then. Thor wrenched his gaze upwards only to see a himself, with his cape in tatters, clambering upright from a pile of corpses.

The other Thor's gaze swept across the corpses at his feet with despair-dulled eyes. He appeared unharmed but for a few scrapes, but the Mjölnir in his hand was dyed as red as his mantle, as though swallowed by rust. He raised his head to observe the moonless sky, then lowered his gaze directly to where Thor sat.

Their eyes met.  
  
The next moment, when Thor finally caught the breath he had fought to take, it was instead Loki's pale eyes he was seeing, carefully observing his face. He was back in the safe confines of Loki's rooms, bright with sunlight, not so much as a drop of blood in sight.  
  
"Don't say anything till you have seen the next one, as well," said Loki — which suited Thor just fine, as he was bereft of words and trying to shove aside the ghost-like shadow of the illusion — then began conjuring anew.  
  
Thor was already dreading what other macabre imagery Loki had cooked up, and sighed in relief when the room transformed instead into a meadow overtaken by trees. It wasn't as detailed as the first illusion: he could see cracks where the plants and especially the pines in the distance remained blurry, like he was witnessing them through wavy glass. All the same, the tranquil atmosphere and the beauty with which Loki had rendered the stream running through the middle of the meadow made him smile.  
  
Loki dispelled the illusion before he really had time to enjoy it. He dropped his hands. "Well?"  
  
"That was unusual for you." Both of the illusions had been, really, as was the fact Loki was showcasing them to him in the first place.  
  
"Which did you like better?"  
  
It wasn't much of a contest. "The second one."  
  
"I see."  
  
Though Loki's expression remained unchanged, it was immediately obvious it had been the wrong answer. The tone he used was so cold Thor swore the temperature in the room dropped with it.  
  
Problem was, he couldn't guess why. "They were both good, but—"  
  
"No, don't tell. It doesn't matter. I asked for your opinion, and you gave it to me." There was a flippancy to Loki's tone, almost like sarcasm, but Thor caught of his expression as he turned away.

He was furious.  
  
Thor stood up. "What it is? Why does it matter if I like one over the other?"  
  
Loki said nothing. When he finally spoke, it was in a very low voice. "Weren't you meant to go somewhere?"  
  
"Not alone."  
  
"Go with your friends, then. I'm not in the mood for pointless frolicking."  
  
If words alone could have pushed someone out of a room and slammed the door shut behind them, these would have done so.  
  
Thor rolled his eyes and made his leave. His brother was impossible at times.

 

* * *

  
  
He didn't see much of Loki till three days later, when he tired of his sulking and sought him out.  
  
He threw open the door to Loki's rooms. "Loki, I'm sick of you refusing—"  
  
The room he had expected wasn't there. Instead, he was assaulted by a myriad of broken colours, squirming and slithering like a pit of snakes, in a constant flux where was no fixed point on which to focus his attention.  
  
He was thoroughly rattled by the time Loki dismissed the spell, lowering his hand with a malicious smile on his face. "How about that one?"  
  
There might have been a kind of chaotic beauty to the vision, like a vortex of prisms, but it was not at all to Thor's liking. Still, he knew Loki would hate the truthful answer.

"It's... nice," he managed.  
  
"You're the worst liar I know."  
  
This time, Loki wasn't even trying to mask the anger in his voice, but if Thor had to guess, it had less to do with the most recent spell and more with the initial pair. He stepped forward. "Look. Why did what I said last time make you so angry?"  
  
"I'm not angry," Loki said in a not-at-all angry voice.  
  
"I mean it." He had mostly tried to forget the entire incident, but now he called forth all the details about the battlefield he could still remember. "Was there something about the first illusion I was supposed to understand? Or did you think I would prefer war over peace?"  
  
"Don't you?" Loki's expression grew milder; he now looked genuinely curious.  
  
"Not that kind of war." He enjoyed battles, yes, but the brutality on display in the illusion had put him off violence for the time being. He didn't ever want to find himself standing in his illusory self's shoes if he could avoid it.  
  
"That's good. For Asgard as well as yourself." But nothing Loki said sounded like he meant it. It sounded more like he was making an effort to keep his voice as flat as possible to belie the anger still kindling in his eyes.  
  
"Then what is the issue here? And don't tell me there is none," he continued when Loki opened his mouth to retaliate. "Anyone could tell you're as mad as a nest of vipers. I'm not stupid."  
  
Why Loki didn't take the obvious chance at a snide jibe at his expense, Thor couldn't guess. Perhaps it was too easy. Instead, he looked aside. "Forget it. If you can't see it for yourself, there is no point in me telling you about it."  
  
"Show it to me again."  
  
"No."  
  
Thor crossed his arms. "I'm not leaving until you do."  
  
"Have fun standing there, then. I will go."  
  
Loki was about to make good of his threat, too: he was already storming by when the last words left his mouth, so fast Thor barely had time to whirl around and catch him by the shoulder.  
  
"Loki, I'm being nice, so can you stop acting like a twit for a moment and just—"  
  
His words were cut short when Loki, without any warning but the flash in his eyes, threw a punch at his nose.  
  
Thor dodged instinctively, the knuckles instead sinking into his cheek. Even with the reduced force, they stung.  
  
He growled. "You little—"  
  
A sizeable portion of him, the one he had listened to as a child, wished to lash back at once and punch Loki's lights out. It was with a great effort that he ignored the impulse. They were nearly men, after all. Too old for childish spats when there where true battles to be had.  
  
Instead, he snatched Loki by the wrist, pulling him back when he tried to flee till he had both of his hands immobilised. His patience was further tested when Loki glared venom at him and tried to trample his foot, leading him to shaking him by the arms. "Will you stop? I'm trying to understand you!"  
  
At those words, Loki stopped struggling. He waited until Thor calmed down and settled for holding his hands between them.  
  
"You never will."  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"...You may be right." Though Thor still felt like shouting, the cold bluntness of Loki's words hurt him more than it angered him. There was something about the defeated way his brother looked away after saying his piece that made his stomach churn. Like he truly meant what he said for once.  
  
"Can't you just tell me what I was supposed to notice?" he asked. "I might understand it then."  
  
No response. Loki's gaze fell further downwards, all the way to the floor, and he went so still it looked as though he meant to shut off completely.  
  
The silence was so complete and lasted for so long Thor was just about to relinquish him and give him up as a lost cause, when Loki looked to make his mind about something. He snapped to rigid attention, fire in his eyes.  
  
"You were supposed to see the effort put into it!" he snarled. "The second one was something I threw together as a simple exercise, but I poured weeks' worth of effort into perfecting the first one and you didn't so much as mention it!"  
  
Thor blinked. More than the outburst itself, he was startled by its message. Loki had always pretended his illusions came to him as naturally as breathing. Him admitting to the work he put into them felt like a crack in reality.  
  
"You can hate it all you want." Even as Loki said it, the undercurrent of tears in his voice made it obvious it was a bald-faced lie. "You can find it distasteful or prefer the other one, but you should have at least acknowledged how much of myself I put into the first!"  
  
He paused there, looking shocked as though his words, always his keenest weapon, had turned around and bit into his own flesh. His silence gave Thor an opportunity to respond.  
  
"It was very lifelike," he offered, as a conciliatory gift. "It was too real, really. I found it difficult to think about it as anything but a nightmare."  
  
Loki shook his head. A single tear rolled down his cheek. "You never see how hard I work."  
  
Thor had no reply, so instead he let go and opened his arms as Loki, still fighting to keep his tears inside, began to sway from the effort. He caught him before he stumbled and pulled him close, hugging him with all the more effort for having failed to provide whatever words it were Loki had needed to hear. Loki, for his part, leaned his head against his shoulder, breathing heavily but not obviously crying.  
  
It felt nice holding him. He was warm, and his hair had a soft scent to it which Thor had never noticed before. Better yet, Loki seemed to agree with the pleasantness of the embrace. At least he didn't try to punch him again.  
  
Perhaps Loki was right, and Thor would never truly understand him and his strange abyss-like mind. But even if he didn't understand him, he could always hug him.  
  
Eventually, Loki moved to separate himself. Thor let go, surprised by how reluctant he was to do so. Loki's eyes were mostly dry, and while he still looked upset, it was a distinct improvement over the fury and frustration from before.  
  
"I'll go." Thor had half expected still wanting to return the punch, but his heart wasn't in it. If anything, his wrath had melted into an unexpected tenderness.  
  
Loki nodded. His eyes were on Thor's face, but not quite looking at him. Thor tried to smile, then turned away.  
  
He was already at the door when Loki began to chuckle.  
  
"You are so easy to fool."  
  
When he turned back, Loki was smirking at him.  
  
"You didn't really think I ever put myself into my illusions, or that I would cry over something so trivial as your opinion on them?" His smirk widened as Thor continued to stare. "I suppose you did. Rather gullible of you, brother."  
  
Thor was about to say something very rude in response when an impulse made him pay less attention to the curve of Loki's lips and his triumphant words and instead focus on his eyes. Though his brother had tried to change them as well, the emotion welling in them didn't match his supposed glee. In fact, it was so unlike it took Thor a long moment to recognise it.  
  
Loneliness. Loneliness and sorrow.  
  
"...I will see you later." He had no words for the situation, only gestures, and he suspected Loki would respond to another hug so soon after the first with a dagger to the kidneys.  
  
"Of course." Loki's gaze hardened. "Better luck next time."  
  
Thor took it as his cue to leave.  
  
He stood outside Loki's door for a moment longer, listening, but patience had never been his strongest suit. When he heard nothing, he shrugged and took his leave.  
  
Even so, he couldn't decide whether the painful sparks in his chest were an illusion, too.


End file.
